Defining: Jamie Powers
by Squizz Hamming
Summary: James is a boy, but no one knew.
1. One

** I'd known him since I was seven. We were best friends. He said it'd be forever.He had long brown hair that fell regally to his shoulders; he barely ever cut it. He always said it was because of his mom, but that excuse only worked until junior high. By then, they knew him. They knew he lived alone.**

_ He was gorgeous. He had spectacular green eyes that would peer into your soul, except for when the grey overtook them, and the green expanses turned to dark, cloudy pools of sadness. It only happened when he cried. And when he cried, it made the whole world dark._

I loved him. I never knew it but I did. He seemed to know what you were thinking, and he always understood. He was short, only about five-foot-four, and a bit chubby. But, boy, could he move. What a dancer, when the rare time came that he would let himself get carried away by the music. But it was only when no one was watching, or everyone was watching. Only when the music was all you could hear, or if there was no music at all. Only when no one cared who he was, or when everyone wanted to know. He was a man of extremes. That was James.

_**LAST NIGHT, JAMES HUXLEY, A MISSING PERSON FOR OVER TWO YEARS, WAS FOUND DEAD IN A PITTSBURGH APARTMENT. THE CAUSE OF HIS DEATH IS STILL UNKNOWN. HE MAY HAVE BEEN STRANGLED OR SUFFOCATED, BUT THERE ARE NO SIGNS. AT THE TIME OF HIS DISCOVERY, EYEWITNESSES SAY THAT BRUISES COVERED HIS ARMS, LEGS, AND CHEST. RECORDS PROVE THAT HE HAD NO REMAINING FAMILY MEMBERS, AND NO ONE HAS COME FORWARD AS AN AQUAINTENCE.**_


	2. Two

**We were studying to be psychology majors. Not like we actually gave a fuck about other people's problems, but there were just a ton of jobs you could get with it. It wasn't that we didn't care about our futures, or else we wouldn't have even gone to college. We just had dreams on a smaller scale. Something we wanted now.**

**I just wanted to impress. I wanted to meet all the girls and go to all the parties. I wanted everyone to know my name and my face. I wanted them to think I was awesome. But James...James was something different. He wanted to make history. He wanted people to talk about him for years and years. He wanted to be really famous. So, we decided on a compromise. We would start a band.**


	3. Three

_ It was a dream come true. The one boy I'd had my eyes on listened to me played guitar, and he liked it. At first, he just sat and watched, his green eyes shining brilliantly in the sun. I stopped, wondering if there was a problem, but he quietly demanded I keep playing. So I did. I did every song I knew for that beautiful boy, hoping, praying, that he liked it._

_ Sweat lined my upper lip and forehead, and it felt like there was an earthquake in each hand. But, somehow, I played every note perfectly. Every single one. He stared at my fingers, and I wished he would give me a clue as to what he thought. And as if reading my brain waves, he started swaying slowly side to side, his eyes closed and a small grin on his face. All my nerves melted away, butter in a frying pan. All the world was gone, except for him and me._

_ But regretfully I stopped, what seemed only moments later. I had played everything I knew. His eyes popped open. "Are you done?" he said nonchalantly. I nodded grimly, wishing I could have played for him forever. My fingers longed to pluck the strings again, letting the soft vibrations echo out of the innards of the guitar's wooden body._

_ He stood and said softly, "Would you consider being in a band with me and my friend Zip?" He smiled as, it he could smell my excitement after hearing these words. "Just come to the library at 2:30 on Monday. Okay?" I nodded again, this time much more eagerly. And with that, he walked away, as if nothing had ever happened._


	4. Four

What a tragically strange boy. He walked into math class with an obvious stagger, and I immediately assumed he was on drugs. I rolled my eyes and sighed, wondering how such losers got into such good math classes. You can imagine my disgust as I realized the boy was sitting down in the chair next to me. But then, I took a closer look at him as he unloaded his books. His arms were covered in bruises and there was a yellow circle, a healing bruise, around his right eye.

"Are you okay?" I whispered worriedly. I wondered what weak, insolent person would pick on such a small, helpless looking boy. In fact, at the time, I thought he was a girl. That was, until he spoke.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?" he said with an eager and heart-warming smile.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," I told him. "But are you sure those bruises are okay?"

"Well, I would think I'd be pretty sure if I was in pain or not, so why bother even asking twice? I'm fine, see? No need to worry. Plus, we're in math class." He said, turning to face the teacher.

"What does math class have to do with it?" It was the only thing I could think of to say. Never did I imagine I'd get such a well thought out answer.

"It's the only place where things are either right or wrong. There are no maybes or kind ofs. There's no looking deep inside to find the true meaning. What you see is what you get. You know?" I didn't know. But I nodded anyway. His smile could change black into white.

After class, we walked around campus together, talking, when I mentioned my bass guitar.

"D'you really play?" he asked excitedly.

"Of course. Why would I lie?" I answered.

"Let's get it. You have to be in my band."

And with that, we rushed to my dorm, grabbed my guitar, and headed to the library.


End file.
